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Knights Feb 2017
Tis a shame, for the ones who can see are the ones who are truly blind
For the ones who have ears to hear, lack the ability to listen
For the once who have gifts to share are selfish to share them
For the ones who have a voice to speak decide to keep quiet
For the ones who have a brain lack the thought to think
Matthew Harlovic Feb 2017
you called me trash, a piece of garbage
so i collected myself and analyzed what
i brought to the table.
i thought about what i could manage
and determined the effectiveness of
my current strategies
but i concluded that i wasted my
time sorting through my problems.

© Matthew Harlovic
Floating bloated.
Life aborted.
Rotting sockets.
A bobbing lifeless buoy.
where the river meets
the sewage.
Francie Lynch Jan 2017
Hey, aren't you
That son-of-a *****
Whose mother jumped the wall.
Yea! You know who you are.
I spotted you hanging on the corner
Through the windshield of my car.
Were you talking conspiracy,
And planning your next job;
Dealing girls, drugs and guns,
Looking goth macabre.

You know who you are.
I saw you look right back at me
Through the side window of my car.
You were talking to your buddies,
I couldn't hear what you said,
I'm convinced it wasn't good,
By the tatoos on your head.

Yes, you know who you are.
You're still idley standing there,
In the rearview of my car.
svdgrl Jan 2017
Husks of chopped evergreen
discarded by the sidewalk
tied to trash,
weeping pine needles
only hope to be compost.
Deflated decoration litter the lawns,
red and green strewn about
lights flickered and burnt out.
Expired eggnog, chicken bones,
crumpled wrapping paper,
empty boxes, metal reindeer,
tinsel and broken candy canes.
Dead christ is still in the holiday,
while we spoke about the night before
we forget we can see him
the morning after.
Lady Bird Dec 2016
cute,funny, smart
makes you wonder
whats behind the smile
charming, sweet, satisfying
may sooth the urge
for a little while
yet not your cup of tea
not a toy on a string
I've made up my mind
I'm not your play thing
I refuse to waste more
of my precious time
if you love me why wont
you just set me free?
K G Dec 2016
Easy, slushy, high
With an open tomb
Like the skanky alchy’
Inside the barroom
Steaming the coldest aisles
With wrinkled lips
For the finest perks
For the messiest tips
KG
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
I've used the gifts of eyes too much,
On delights who can't feel my touch,
Nor can feel my sighs, nor my voice,
Nor my sorrow, and nor my joys.

I've wasted too much hand movements,
Too much ink, too much days and nights
Writing their names on blank pages,
While I did not expect replies.
.
                                                Enough is not enough
                                                     I want too much.

                                                      “Excuse me sir
                                           you haven’t paid too much.
                                                  I gave you too much
                                               and you ate everything.
                                        I need to throw away something
                                                 and the bin’s spilling."

"I drove too many footsteps
past too many throwaways
too many pylons
water towers
possum-eaten polystyrene cups
Mcdonalds
Mcdonalds
Mcdonalds
camel boxes
and walkers
with socks as hard as coffins.”

                                             Enough is not enough
                                                  I want too much.
Thoughts on the road in America.
K G Nov 2016
As the clock hit twelve, they came in
The poets whistle and hum a seducing tune
We'd sloom to the guns choking the highway
Or the flooding of limerence burying us
As the clock hit twelve, they passed on
The shifting lights from the odd passing car
Gives a prim reflection of us pulling our weight
Peaking over the farthest stretch of earth
For our last slim moments thoughts thicken
Great homesickness that cannot be shaken off
Begins to sink in with the stolidness
As we hover over the horizon
With our backs arched against angst
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